.38 Револьвер

(альбом: Masters Of The Dark Arts - 2012)

Yeah, turn my headphones up
Sicknature, La Coka Nostra
Can I get a little volume?
(Turn my volume up in my headphones, man)
You know I like that shit turned right up
Haha

Dudes are full of jealousy, they bitches and liars
Pussy and cocaine are kings so the biscuits are fired
Won't stop me from fucking or getting sniffed till I'm wired
I'm just saying how I feel cause this shit got me tired
I'm exhausted, by my street hustle, but it caused it
Death echo around in my town, it had me nauseous
And I ain't talking 'bout the film that you see me in
I'm talking bout the snakes trying to kill him in the green BM
My guns are loaded, my mind is out of my head
My son's my motive my grind is hide till I'm dead
My nines exploding, my enemies started to bled
Fishes will bleed, want some issues with me?
I'll put a body on it, wipe it, give you pistols for free
You's a small timer, ain't no one as vicious as me
I'm the dark angel scriptures that religits can read
This is real, think it's hard to believe?
Fuck outta here!

God is great, guard your space
One hand wash the other, both wash the face
And I heard crack so much, it's hard to ace
.38 revolver flow, it's hard to trace

God is great, guard your space
One hand wash the other, both wash the face
And I heard crack so much, it's hard to ace
.38 revolver flow, it's hard to trace

Cult Leader presidential like rocking a Rollie and Polo
Competition screams uncle like Napoleon Solo
You think education is expensive, try ignorance instead
Try a pistol to your head, now you're bringing in the bread
Seal with the fists
Half a dozen gunmen, hate amongst brothers
Once powerful empires crumble up into nothing
Everything is started as a thought
So-called reality is a matrix that's transmitted by brain waves
Across optical and neurological modules
Throw cars with our minds like Chronicle, nothing's impossible
I could beat you with the barrels, then heat you with the hollows
Be in Giza with the pharaohs, and then have pizza at the forest
Brought the devil to your house, say hi to Satan
Then put the metal in your mouth like Iron Maiden
I'm a cross between Mike Tyson and the Ice Titan
White lightning, beats and thundering lyrics are quite frightening

God is great, guard your space
One hand wash the other, both wash the face
And I heard crack so much, it's hard to ace
.38 revolver flow, it's hard to trace

God is great, guard your space
One hand wash the other, both wash the face
And I heard crack so much, it's hard to ace
.38 revolver flow, it's hard to trace

Necronomicon-bat I'll leave it at that
Leaving the game, hallucinations only even the plain
Look, I'm keeping it cane, I mean coke
Replacing the pope, keep the long arm in the coat
You want the serial killer shit?
Late night, break in the house
Throw the dog a steak and fuck your wife on the couch
I'm wiping 'em out, murder fucking kids in their bed
Ted Bundy cause I'm taking the head
Left's not back, I'm a thought, a dream, a concept
Ready for combat, go ahead and pull the trigger
You want that, welcome to the grid of reverse reality
I'm a user-programmed mentality, salary
John 3: 16, I'm seeing the gleam, see in your eyes
Seeing you believing the lies
Motherfuckers are never nice guys, remember that
All you faggots talk shit from the back
Come on, man

God is great, guard your space
One hand wash the other, both wash the face
And I heard crack so much, it's hard to ace
.38 revolver flow, it's hard to trace

God is great, guard your space
One hand wash the other, both wash the face
And I heard crack so much, it's hard to ace
.38 revolver flow, it's hard to trace